I’ve never been to Graceland in Memphis, Tennessee, and it’s not on my bucket list to ever go there. That’s not to say it isn’t on my wife’s. I believe there’ll come a day when they close Graceland down and sell off all the furniture and fixtures, just as they did with the Roy Rogers and Dale Evans museum and home in Apple Valley, California. Some younger people don’t know who the late Roy Rogers and Dale Evans are. They were Western television celebrities from the 50s and 60s.
Graceland, for those who don’t know, is Elvis Presley’s former mansion, with it also being home to his parents, Vernon and Gladys Presley. The infamous “Jungle Room” in Graceland can no longer be seen by paying visitors, so that should tell you something. I’m assuming that the celebrated green shag carpet has been flattened beyond reprieve by countless shoes.
Dateland, Arizona, is on my list of places to visit. This place has a history that goes much further back than the King of Rock-n-Roll’s former pad. Dateland is a small, unincorporated community located in Yuma County, in the southwestern part of the state, approximately 200 miles from Lake Havasu City.
Nestled amid the vast Sonoran Desert, Dateland is best known for its date palms, date milkshakes, and its role as a memorable stop along Interstate 8. While it may seem unassuming to passersby, Dateland’s history is rich and deeply intertwined with the story of transportation, agriculture, and military activity in the region.
The area that would become Dateland has long been inhabited by Indigenous peoples, including the Cocopah and Quechan tribes, who traversed the arid landscape for centuries. The harsh desert environment, however, limited permanent settlement until the arrival of modern infrastructure in the early 20th century.
Dateland’s modern history began during World War II. In the early 1940s, the United States military established a series of desert training camps in the Southwest as part of the Desert Training Center, designed to prepare troops for combat in North Africa’s harsh conditions. One such installation was Camp Horn, located near what is now Dateland. The camp housed thousands of soldiers and brought increased activity and infrastructure to the area—including roads, water wells, and basic services.
Around the same period, efforts were made to develop agriculture in the arid region using irrigation. The climate and soil of the area proved ideal for growing date palms, a crop originally introduced to Arizona from the Middle East in the early 20th century. The abundance of date palms gave the settlement its distinctive name: Dateland.
After the war, the military camps were decommissioned, but the agricultural industry remained. Farmers continued to cultivate date palms, and Dateland became a unique outpost for travelers seeking fresh dates and date products. Miraculously, the old aircraft runways and some of the building foundations are still visible.
When U.S. Route 80 and later Interstate 8 were constructed, Dateland found new life as a highway stop. Its location made it a convenient rest area for motorists traveling between Yuma, Phoenix, and beyond. The Dateland Travel Center, established in the mid-20th century, became locally famous for its date shakes and other date products, drawing visitors from across the country. My reason for wanting to go there is to sample one of those date shakes.
Today, Dateland’s economy is closely linked to tourism and the date industry. The community remains small, with a population of only a few hundred residents, but it has carved out a niche as a quirky and memorable destination for travelers.
Dateland’s legacy is a testament to adaptation in the desert. From its beginnings as a military outpost to its transformation into a hub for date agriculture and a beloved roadside stop, Dateland reflects the broader history of the American Southwest—one of resilience, innovation, and hospitality. The date palm groves, roadside stands, and echoes of military history continue to define this unique Arizona community.
Despite its small size, Dateland, Arizona, holds an outsized place in the memories of travelers and the agricultural history of the region. Its evolution from a remote desert site to a symbol of Arizona’s agricultural ingenuity and highway culture makes it a fascinating chapter in the story of the American West.
I came across a July 23, 1962, picture postcard sent from someone named Scotty to Mr. James J. Coleman in Middleton, Pennsylvania. It was nine o’clock in the morning, judging by the official postal stamp. Scotty’s watch must have been an hour ahead of time, as you’ll soon see.
A photograph on front of the card shows a Chevron gas station in Dateland, along with a cafe and post office. Scotty’s short message to James Coleman reads as follows:
“Monday
We are here for a cool drink. Yesterday the temp was 110. Today at 10 AM it’s 94.
Scotty”
I have no earthly idea who Scotty is, other than he might’ve been passing through Dateland on his way to hook up with Captain Kirk and the Starship Enterprise crew in Phoenix. James J. Coleman, the postcard recipient, was quite easy to track down. I’ll supply the basic biographical information here, as there wasn’t much personal data to go by.
James Joseph Overfield Coleman was born on December 1, 1906. He married Claire Rita Garrity on June 23, 1928. Married for 62 years, the couple had one daughter, Ellin. James was a draftsman and mechanical engineer for a heating and cooling sheet metal business. His wife, Claire, died on September 1, 1990, and James passed away on June 3, 1994, at the age of 87. Daughter, Ellin Coleman-Tutrone, died six years later on June 29, 2000. That pretty much sums things up.
Dateland, Arizona, on the other hand, now has a historical society, and they’re attempting to reconnect with soldiers who served in the area during WWII. With the majority of them now deceased, that project will unlikely find few living sources if any.
Before he died, former Army Air Corps B-25 aviator Lt. Robert “Bob” Adair Dethlefsen penned the following letter to the Dateland historical society. I’ll end things with his unique recollection and my final thoughts.
“On December 23rd, 1943, due to pervasive bad weather in the San Joaquin Valley, approximately 40-50 B-25 airplanes arrived at Datelan AAF for temporary duty. This contingent, including instructors, students, and ground support crews, was a B-25 pilot training group from Mather AFB, Sacramento, California. After three weeks of innumerable take-offs and landings, it became apparent that the Datelan runways had not been built to withstand this type of pounding. After completing the training of one class, the entire operation was moved to DAAF Deming, NM. Although the airfield remained in operation, there was very little activity thereafter. It had been in use for less than a month. For whatever reason, the military referred to this location as DATELAN. During my brief stay at this desolate oasis, the highlight of the day was walking out to the junction, sitting on the front porch of the general store-gas station, and watching the train go by.”
Bob Dethlefsen – San Jose, California – November 3, 2007
I hope to emulate Lieutenant Robert Dethlefsen when I get to Dateland. With a cool, refreshing date shake in hand, I’ll find a place to park near the railroad tracks and wait for a train to roll by.
After it passes, and I finish my drink, I’ll pull my vehicle back onto hot black asphalt and hit the gas. On Monday, July 23, 1962, a few minutes after 9 o’clock AM, with 110 degrees rapidly closing in on Scotty, I’m sure he did the same.
I like to write junk... 